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Chapter Text

“There’s a dead demon on your doorstep.”

There’s always a dead demon on Shen Qingqiu’s doorstep. The question is no longer why is there a dead demon on Shen Qingqiu’s doorstep–Liu Qingge is why. Him and his cat-like tendencies, stalking in and out of the Bamboo House whenever he pleases, dropping off decapitated gifts as a show of affection. Platonic, brotherly, straight affection. Obviously. At least, Shen Qingqiu hopes it’s a sign of affection. And not a threat of some kind. It can be hard to tell with Liu Qingge.

No, the question has become what dead demon is on Shen Qingqiu’s doorstep. And today, it is one that not even Liu Qingge recognizes.

Shen Qingqiu takes a moment to excuse himself from the private lesson his dear Shidi decided to interrupt.

Ning Yingying, guqin in lap, is not nearly as pleased to see her martial uncle as Shen Qingqiu is.

The girl’s scathing glare almost convinces Liu Qingge that she should be studying on his peak instead. Ferocious thing. And Liu Qingge thought the other one was bad. Luo Binghe–rest his soul, or whatever–made for quite the audacious seventeen year old. But as of late, (i.e ever since Liu Qingge embarked on his most challenging quest yet: pursuing Shen Qingqiu) it would appear Luo Binghe’s streak of protectiveness did not, in fact, die with him. Instead it reincarnated into the spirits of every last one of Shen Qingqiu’s disciples. Liu Qingge must prepare for war the moment he sets foot on Qing Jing Peak. He’s busy enough as it is, beating his own disciples to a pulp, and now he must do it to Shen Qingqiu’s as well?

“Ning Yingying was playing so well, do keep practicing. This one must go see what your Liu-shishu is making such a fuss over.” Shen Qingqiu, with his back turned, doesn’t see the strangling motion Ning Yingying performs on herself in warning to Liu Qingge.

How vulgar. Liu Qingge thought this was supposed to be a scholarly peak?

“I don’t fuss.” Liu Qingge sends a flick of qi to unravel one of the citrus orange ribbons tied in the young girl’s hair. A harmless attack, but one would not think so given the way Ning Yingying positively shrieks. Shen Qingqiu whirls around, giving Liu Qingge ample time to sneak in another thread of qi. This time to the guqin in Ning Yingying’s lap. A string snaps. Then three.

“You should go get that fixed,” Liu Qingge says and Shen Qingqiu quietly agrees.

Ning Yingying, with half her hair falling in her face, thanks them for the advice and scurries out of the Bamboo House. Not without knocking Liu Qingge’s shoulder with her ruined instrument on the way out.

Liu Qingge scoffs. He remembers a time when being a Shishu meant he was respected.

“Let’s see what it is now, Liu-shidi.” Shen Qingqiu is notably unphased by his disciple’s bizarre behavior. Which leads Liu Qingge to believe that no one on this peak behaves as they should. That would explain the ambushes.

They make for the front porch. It’s not a race, but Liu Qingge makes it one in his effort to reach the door first and hold it open for Shen Qingqiu. Like he was told to.

“You must be chivalrous.”

Liu Qingge’s impatience has him snatching the pile of papers from his sister’s desk before the ink has time to dry. It’s more of a pamphlet than the simple list he was promised. And a thick one at that. With attached illustrations.

The official guide to courting Shen Qingqiu. Liu Mingyan had outright guaranteed its effectiveness. Liu Qingge questions Qi Qingqi’s methods of teaching if Xian Shu’s head disciple has time to write out all this nonsense. But it’s nonsense he begged for so Liu Qingge drops into the empty spot next to his sister and tackles the reading head-on. The answer, the key, to unlocking Shen Qingqiu’s affections–it’s here somewhere. Hidden among these countless pages. Waiting for discovery.

Liu Qingge doesn’t like what he finds.

“Cook for him, clean for him, bring him gifts–this is everything that Luo brat did for Shen Qingqiu?”

“I know,” Liu Mingyan says with the type of seriousness that she usually reserves for demon slaying. “That’s why you’re falling behind.”

Shen Qingqiu did give that pipsqueak a baffling amount of attention. Liu Mingyan might be onto something here. Liu Qingge continues.

“Slam him against the wall and push your knee between his legs. Use your tongue to–Mingyan!”

“Apologies, ge. That was for, ahem, another project.” Liu Mingyan coughs into her curled fist and rips that page clean from the pamphlet. And its accompanying illustration. Wait. Was that Shen Qingqiu in the drawing? Who was the partner with him? Liu Qingge doesn’t have curly hair–

Shen Qingqiu hasn’t had to touch a door handle for the past six months. Between that, the demon carcasses, and the dinner Liu Qingge prepared that finally didn’t make Shen Qingqiu sick afterwards, Liu Qingge would say they’re well on their way to an engagement. Any day now, really. He just needs to find a way to get into the Bamboo House and clean it before Ming Fan has a chance. Maybe get his disciples to sweep the whole peak. Liu Mingyan didn’t indicate how much cleaning was needed in order to woo Shen Qingqiu. He’ll just clean everything to be safe.

The two stop and stare at the bloody mess on Shen Qingqiu’s porch together. Maybe Liu Qingge could start with cleaning that.

“This is not your handiwork?” Shen Qingqiu crouches into a pile of green and white robes, smacking at Liu Qingge’s leg when the brute nudges the poor bloody creature with the tip of his boot. The Fury Falcon, which Shen Qingqiu and his vast knowledge as an official PIDW hater has already identified, gives a pathetic blep.

“It’s still alive!”

“Not my handiwork then.” Liu Qingge draws his sword. If someone out there has the gall to try and to challenge his courtship with bigger and better demon offerings, they should make sure they’re dead first. Amateurs.

Shen Qingqiu bats at his leg again. “Leave it be. They’ve made a long journey.”

“From where?” Liu Qingge is trying his best not to get distracted by the way Shen Qingqiu rests his fan against his pouting lips, eyes welling with a sympathy this rotting lump of feathers doesn’t deserve. It’s just a bird.

A bird that is not nearly as wounded as it’s pretending to be. The damn thing chirps a happy little song and nuzzles into Shen Qingqiu’s chest the moment it’s picked up. Luo Binghe used to do the same thing. Sudden ailments always seemed to befall him and his ‘poor, developing cultivator’s constitution’ whenever Liu Qingge would make an appearance in the Bamboo House. The kind of sudden ailments that needed his shizun’s full attention. Liu Qingge used to be sent out the door, or worse, demoted to household servant as he was made to fetch food or medicine. All while Luo Binghe sat content as a cat in Shen Qingqiu’s arms.

Shen Qingqiu runs his fingers over the bird’s shining feathers. Red, orange, and yellow. Bits of blue and purple around the extremities. Like a summer’s sunset. “This particular species originates from the Endless Abyss,” he says. A fascinating find indeed! Shang Qinghua can’t write romance for shit, but he knows his way around a good demon design. The Fury Falcon is no exception.

“Shizun, how did it end up here?” Ming Fan pops his head out from the nearest window. He’s supposed to be tidying Shen Qingqiu’s office right now. Sneaky little thing. He ought to be grounded for the rest of the day. At least whenever Binghe eavesdropped on his and Liu Qingge’s conversations, he had the decency to stay hidden.

Regrettably though, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have an answer for Ming Fan. The one they really should be picking the brain of is Shang Qinghua. This is his wife plot bullshit.

The Fury Falcon is an especially rare demon capable of traversing between the Abyss and the two realms. A glamorized messenger bird really, one that Luo Binghe utilized to keep in touch with wife number thirty-three.

Number thirty-three. Where to begin? She was a demon princess Luo Binghe met and battled alongside in the Endless Abyss, sent to the burning hellscape as a rite of passage. To prove herself worthy of her father’s throne. A week in the Endless Abyss. Survival was the only requirement. A feat she was only able to accomplish with the ever so talented protagonist by her side. The two fell in love and indulged in a few boring chapters of papapa before the princess's father returned to the Abyss to retrieve her after the week's vacation was up.

He refused to bring Luo Binghe back to the surface with them. Heartbroken at their separation, the princess enlisted the help of a Fury Falcon to send messages to Luo Binghe. It equated to nothing more than long distance xianxia sexting. Some odd one hundred chapters later, Luo Binghe escaped the Endless Abyss and reunited with the princess, marrying her and thus inheriting her entire kingdom.

It was a mildly interesting anecdote in the stallion protagonist’s rise to power. Four years have passed since that fateful day at the Immortal Alliance Conference, so Luo Binghe is sure to have stumbled upon wife number thirty-three by now. Something unpleasant simmers in Shen Qingqiu’s chest at the thought. That woman better not have caused his Binghe so much trouble this time around! There were many cases in PIDW where Luo Binghe was severely injured protecting her from demons she could never hope to defeat. As if the poor boy wasn’t having a hard enough time down there on his own!

Shen Qingqiu can still quote the profanities he let loose on Airplane-bro in the comments over this arc. Why send a frail princess who’s never once held a sword in her life to be Binghe’s companion in the Abyss? Shen Qingqiu in his modern day, rich boy, non-cultivator body would’ve been more helpful than her!

‘Sorry bro ik you want to be down there with your precious Binghe but ur boobs aren’t big enough for the job’

That comment reply from Shang Qinghua wasn’t the thing that ended up killing Shen Yuan and sending him to the world of PIDW. But it was close.

The Fury Falcon trills happily when Shen Qingqiu scratches the soft spot under its beak. “I believe you’re in the wrong place, little one,” he chides. The scroll attached to the demon’s clawed foot is probably just another shitty poem describing the princess’s longing for the Heavenly Pillar. Luo Binghe is big, and skilled, and big, and slightly curved, and BIG–Shen Qingqiu read thousands upon thousands of chapters describing the exact same thing. He knows.

This poor demon must’ve just ended up on the wrong doorstep. Nevertheless, Shen Qingqiu will be a gracious host. Ignoring Liu Qingge’s complaints, he takes the bird inside and asks that Ming Fan bring him a bowl of water and a cloth. Once those are acquired, he gets to work cleaning the Fury Falcon of whatever gore it’s covered in, revealing more of its beautiful color palette with every wipe. A strip of gauze is wrapped around the cut Shen Qingqiu finds on its right wing. What a treacherous journey this darling baby has made! They deserve a nice break.

The Fury Falcon ends the night cozied up on one of Shen Qingqiu’s silk pillows, a bowl of fresh fruit at its side. Shen Qingqiu goes through the trouble of hand-feeding it every bite of its supper. If it didn’t already have an important duty in the PIDW story, Shen Qingqiu would have adopted the demon in a heartbeat. Surely he could give the Fury Falcon a better life here on Qing Jing Peak than it would have acting as the protagonist's glorified iphone.

Liu Qingge leaves only after confirming that the Fury Falcon won’t harm a hair on Shen Qingqiu’s head. Ning Yingying returns, but between her and Ming Fan, neither of them are able to coax the bird away from Shen Qingqiu’s side. They retire to the disciples' quarters utterly heartbroken.

“Picking favorites, hm?” Shen Qingqiu sighs as he tugs down whatever elaborate updo Ning Yingying twisted his hair into today. He sinks his comb into the inky strands, missing the days when Luo Binghe would jump at the opportunity to brush it for him. The press of his nails so gentle against Shen Qingqiu’s scalp, the small tune he’d hum as worked, their eyes catching every once in a while in the mirror. Binghe was always so shy in those moments, cheeks pink like a spring bud, lashes dipped towards the floor. His little lamb.

Shen Qingqiu pauses, eyes caught in his own reflection.

The only reason Luo Binghe would have to touch his hair now would be to use it to drag him towards his demise.

He drops the jade comb. The Fury Falcon squawks at the sudden noise.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shen Qingqiu mumbles. He shakily retrieves the comb, throwing it at his vanity and climbing into bed. Sheets pulled up over his face, he almost doesn’t notice when the Fury Falcon waddles over from the pillow and plants itself right on his chest.

“I’m fine,” he pulls the sheets away to show the demon just how fine he is. It blinks at him. Shen Qingqiu blinks back. Neither of them move.

Stubborn. Shen Qingqiu strokes its head fondly. “Go to sleep,” he orders. And it does, curled into a ball on his chest. A weight against his already heavy heart.

A weight that is somehow ten times worse when Shen Qingqiu stretches awake the next morning. Or tries to. It’s just that a pair of arms doing their best impression of a python makes it a bit difficult to move.

Hm. That’s new.

Shen Qingqiu does what anyone would do, and screams. His unwelcomed guest jolts awake.

The young man releases Shen Qingqiu rather easily. No fighting or threatening. He only yawns as Shen Qingqiu’s scrambles upright, scratching at some of the scarlet feathers lining his cheekbone. There’s tufts of blue and purple across his forearms and hands, oranges and yellows down his neck and chest. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t dare look further. There’s only the white sheets of Shen Qingqiu bedding to spare the man some modesty.

A naked man in his bed. Shen Qingqiu assesses the stranger again. Dark skin, wild hair, rounded, gemstone-bright eyes that smile up at him. A good looking, naked man in his bed. Well, it could be worse. It could be a woman.

“Good morning!” At least someone woke up in a good mood. Shen Qingqiu stares at the man incredulously. This is the part where the psycho starts explaining how he got past the Bamboo House’s protective barriers and into his bed of all places.

“Do I…know you?” Shen Qingqiu’s sleeping robe dips from his shoulder, the sash around his middle loosened and revealing a small slip of chest. He’s too shocked to notice. His new companion does however, launching himself forward to press his face directly into the milky, warm skin on display. His arms find Shen Qingqiu’s waist again, locking in place.

“You–!” Shen Qingqiu calls for Xiu Ya. The sword spirals out of its sheath, landing it his hand in the time it takes this pervert to snuggle further into his robes.

“Last night the kind master was much more obliging of this lowly one,” the man huffs, drawing his eyes back up to Shen Qingqiu. “Thank you for your help. This one is forever in your debt.” He lifts his arm. Shen Qingqiu recognizes the gauze he’d so carefully wrapped around it yesterday. Except yesterday it had been a wing. Because yesterday this man was a bird.

Killing postponed. Shen Qingqiu lowers his weapon. “This one was not aware that a Fury Falcon also possessed a human form.” Shang Qinghua was never compelled to share this particular detail of his story, apparently. Why is Shen Qingqiu surprised? Everything is always Airplane’s fault.

Calling it a human form is a bit of a stretch. Aside from the feathers left behind in the transformation, The Fury Flacon’s ears are a smidge too long, his nails a centimeter too sharp. He’s really not going to fool anyone like this. Especially not a cultivator.

The demon gives Shen Qingqiu a rackish, fanged smile. “This one thought this appearance would be more pleasing to the kind master.”

Pleasing? Sure, this human body is fit and full in all the right ways–

That’s besides the point! Shen Qingqiu had no qualms about his original form! In fact, he should go back to it, right this instance! Before these sheets fall off him any further!

“It is much simpler to communicate to the kind master in this state,” the Fury Falcon explains, finally extracting himself from Shen Qingqiu. He sits back on his knees, sheets clutched to his chest. “To save this one’s life; treating him, feeding him, housing him.” The demon drops into a kotow, right on the mattress. “Kind master, please allow this lowly one to serve you until the end of his days!”

Looks like Luo Binghe’s phone contract is about to be up. And that won’t do. How else will he communicate with wife number thirty-three? Shen Qingqiu can’t afford to derail the plot more than he already has. Especially when it comes to Luo Binghe’s wives. Ning Yingying has about as much romantic interest in Luo Binghe as she does with a brick wall. Which Shen Qingqiu finds so baffling. It’s Luo Binghe! Look at him! Even at seventeen he’d been just the most dashing young man…and Liu Mingyan! She’s just as bad. She only makes herself present when he and Binghe are enjoying a moment off the peak together, somehow always at the scene of the crime with a paper and brush and that strangely intense gaze of hers. And let’s not forget that Qin Wanrong was lost at the Immortal Alliance Conference. That’s already three wives out of the official running. No more! This universe calls for a harem and Shen Qingqiu is going to make sure it gets one!

“Surely a great demon such as yourself has a duty to carry out aside from being this one’s…” Shen Qingqiu fumbles for the right word. “Pet?” he tries.

“It would be an honor to be the kind master’s pet.”

Such devotion already! It must’ve been the hand-fed grapes.

But Shen Qingqiu has been a bit lonely these past few years without Luo Binghe waiting around every corner for him. He really did have the uncanny ability to be everywhere, all the time. Truly, there was nothing better than finishing a bath and turning to see Luo Binghe peeking out from behind the privacy screen, smiling and holding out a pile of towels he personally heated using a talisman. Or when Shen Qingqiu’s restless at night, tossing and turning well after the sun has set and suddenly spotting Luo Binghe on the other side of the room, standing and watching and–oh poor thing, you couldn’t sleep either? Come, come. Lay down, indulge this silly master of yours and listen to him talk for a bit. Just until he gets sleepy. What’s that? You want to sleep here tonight? You’ve been training all day and you're too tired to make it back to your own bed? Okay, you can stay. No need for tears…

Maybe a pet was just what Shen Qingqiu needed to fill the ever present vacancy Luo Binghe left behind.

“You may stay,” he tells the demon, to thunderous celebration. “But there’s no need to refer to me as kind master. This one simply goes by Shen Qingqiu.”

The Fury Falcon makes a poor attempt at a wink. “A-Qiu~”

Not what he said.

The bright, shock of red that is the Fury Falcon’s hair ripples with an invisible force. “This one is called Xiao Huo.” His handsome face slackens with realization. “Shen Qingqiu! You’re Shen Qingqiu!” he cries.

Yes, yes. That’s him. The scum villain. No need for hysterics.

Xiao Huo clumsily rips the scroll from his leg. He looks at it, then at Shen Qingqiu, then back to the scroll. “This one does not have a message for Shen Qingqiu, of Qing Jing Peak, of Cang Qiong Mountain.” He chucks the scroll as hard as he can, almost sending it through a window, and tries to return to snuggling.

“Hey! Let me see that!” Shen Qingqiu goes scrambling for the discarded message. His discarded message. There’s only one person in the Endless Abyss who would be able to recite that kind of information to Xiao Huo.

Knowing this, Shen Qingqiu tears open the scroll at once.

A ribbon, pressed and preserved in the safety of the parchment, slips out past Shen Qingqiu’s fingertips, fluttering down to his lap. It's a lovely shade of sage. From the ends hang two pearls to match the shimmering white embroidery along its length. Shen Qingqiu had commissioned a local craftsman to create it as a gift for Binghe. For his seventeenth birthday. Right before the Immortal Alliance Conference.

Luo Binghe was an absolute mess when he received it, stuck between staring teary eyed at his gift and staring teary eyed at his master. He managed to do both, switching back and forth while performing a near symphonic melody of ’Shizun!’ on repeat. How dramatic! Shen Qingqiu ate up every second of it.

He was given the esteemed honor of tying the ribbon into Luo Binghe’s hair. A subtle streak of green dancing between the thick forest of Luo Binghe’s curls. It suited him wonderfully. A piece of trash would suit him wonderfully, but even the protagonist deserves to be spoiled every once in awhile.

The ribbon is now but a fraction of its original beauty. Torn in some places, bloodied in others. One of the pearls is chipped, the other scorched black as though it were burned. A summary of Luo Binghe’s time in the Endless Abyss.

Shen Qingqiu almost doesn’t have it in him to read the message. But he owes Binghe that much.

In the end, there is not much to read at all. Two words, written in a messy, red scrawl. Blood as his ink. His fingers, the brush.

Shizun, it reads.

Help.

Shen Qingqiu’s heart plummets. This isn’t a threat or a curse to his name. It’s worse.

It’s a distress signal.

Something’s gone wrong in the Endless Abyss. So wrong that Luo Binghe thought to seek help from the person who he could once rely on for anything. His Shizun. His awful, unworthy, villain of a Shizun.

Shen Qingqiu flips the scroll to the other side. Nothing. No, no. He needs to know–he needs more–

“Luo Binghe, how is he?!” Shen Qingqiu has grasped Xiao Huo by the shoulders now. Surely the Fury Falcon saw him, spoke with him. He must know something. Anything.

Xiao Huo scoffs, preening the feathers around his temples. “Oh, that halfing? This one is still not certain Luo Binghe is the Heavenly Demon he claims to be.” He takes Shen Qingqiu’s hands on him as an invitation, returning to his cherished spot on Shen Qingqiu’s lap. “A-Qiu, no leader of the demon race should cry that much. This lowly one would make a much better mate for you.”

“Who said anything about mates?” This is a matter of life or death! Shen Qingqiu springs from the bed, shoving a struggling Xiao Huo under the sheets as he calls for Ming Fan.

“Quiet!” Shen Qingqiu hisses to a very not quiet Xiao Huo. A pillow over the face makes for a nice way to silence the squabbling Fury Falcon. He’s a demon. He’ll be fine.

And Xiao Huo is, his entire body glowing like magma as he morphs back into his original state. He perches himself right on Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder. Whatever. That works.

“Yes Shizun?” Ming Fan is at the door in seconds, arms folded in front of him, head bent in deference as he pretends to not have heard his Shizun killing a man inside the Bamboo House. The same way his master pretends to not hear him and the others dog piling Liu-Shishu at every opportune moment. “What can this one do?”

Shen Qingqiu rubs at the migraine he already feels forming. “Go get your Shang-Shishu.”

✦✦✦

“You wouldn’t make it two days, bro. Actually, no. You wouldn’t even make it two hours–” Shang Qinghua yelps as his bowl of lotus seeds is smacked away by a fan moving faster than light itself. He knew something was up when Cucumber-bro invited him over. He greeted Shang Qinghua normally, none of his customary moaning and bitching about a long forgotten PIDW plot hole. A simple hello. Who knew that was possible?! He even gave Shang Qinghua food! But not one of the sesame balls on the ceramic plate next to him. Shang Qinghua doesn’t deserve those, apparently.

“I didn’t bring you here to tell me it’s not possible,” Shen Qingqiu drops a sesame ball into his mouth, smacking away Shang Qinghua’s hand when he tries to grab one for himself.

No, Shen Qingqiu brought him to the Bamboo House to unload some god awful plan he made while clearly in the throes Luo Binghe induced mental breakdown. It goes as follows:

1.) Enter the Endless Abyss (how?)

2.) Find Luo Binghe (how?)

3.) Escape together (HOW???)

4.) ???

There’s also a demon on Cucumber-bro’s shoulder. A cool demon. A cool, colorful demon that Shang Qinghua really should know the name of since he literally crafted its entire existence.

“Fire…fire phoenix?” He tries. Hm. No. That doesn’t sound right.

Shen Qingqiu spares the five seconds of effort it takes to look away from his work and give Shang Qinghua the most chilling scowl. He’s covered in ink; sleeves artlessly pulled back to reveal strokes of black up and down his arms, his stained fingertips casting an almost (almost!) adorable smudge across his nose when he goes to move an errant piece of hair from his failing updo. “What?”

“Flame flyer?”

“What–no. No. Fury Falcon!” He throws a dropped lotus seed directly at the center of Shang Qinghua’s forehead. Bullseye. The Fury Falcon chirps in approval. “Focus!” Shen Qingqiu snaps. “As I was saying…I will be fine in the Endless Abyss. So you don’t need to worry.”

Shang Qinghua has to laugh at that. “How, my dude? You were literally nerfed by the narrative. The second a big, bad demon comes at you down there, Without-a-Cure is going to rear its ugly head and then you’re gonna die. And I’m gonna be alone. Who am I supposed to talk about Naruto with then, huh?!”

“We’ve discussed the complexities of Sasunaru enough as it is–”

Like hell they have! “We still need to go over the potential divorced dad’s arc.” Shang Qinghua didn’t illegally download the latest manga chapters before his death, releasing an unholy calamity of viruses onto his laptop that nearly corrupted his Zhongdian author account, for nothing. “Surely you’ve read Boruto and seen the implications.”

”Stop distracting me. We don’t have time for this.”

Shang Qinghua throws his arms up in silent defeat. “Fine. Fine. Explain to me how FINE you’re going to be in the one place that almost killed the protagonist. I would love to hear this.”

Shen Qingqiu tucks his brush behind his ear. Cute. Who taught him to be cute? “I have a theory,” he begins. “We know of the protagonist halo. Luo Binghe is protected from death because of his role in the story. Right, System?”

‘That is correct, User Shen Yuan!’ The System happily supplies. Brown-noser. Shang Qinghua waves the floating neon screen away.

“But. Have you ever considered the opposite?”

Shang Qinghua tries to. “The protagonist…death flag?” Who the hell wants to read a story where the protagonist dies?

Shen Qingqiu chooses to ignore that, the same way he chooses to ignore half the crap Shang Qinghua spouts out. He crumbles up his current parchment, opting for a new blank one to scribble over next. “The villain halo. Essentially it boils down to the idea that only the protagonist can bring justice and kill the villain. Therefore, narratively speaking, nothing in the Endless Abyss should be able to kill me.”

“Because Luo Binghe has already reserved the right.” It dawns on Shang Qinghua then. That his best bro might actually be a genius. He slams his hands on the table, rattling an already empty dish of ink onto its side. “You sick son of a bitch. That just might work.”

It doesn’t matter that Shang Qinghua can, in good faith, claim that Luo Binghe is hopelessly in love with Cucumber-bro. He’s still technically The Villain in the eyes of the System. That is, until Luo Binghe gets his tongue down Cucumber-bro’s throat and officially marks him as The Love Interest instead. The Protagonist Halo coverage extends to wives and dependents, so Shen Qingqiu will totally qualify for his new health insurance plan.

“Hopefully this will work too.” Shen Qingqiu presents a talisman from his desk, the one he’s been trying to perfect for the better half of four hours. Or at least for as long as Shang Qinghua has been here. So, in other words, too long. He slaps it onto Shang Qinghua’s face.

Shang Qinghua feels a pleasant buzz as the spell takes root and activates. He’s not sure what he’s expecting when he looks down next, but it isn’t the pale green robes of Qing Jing Peak. Or the river of midnight hair coursing down his shoulders and back. And certainly not the long, willowy hands of a cultivator much more regal than himself frantically pressing and pawing around a body much more regal than his own.

“What the hell did you just do to me?” Even his voice has changed.

Shen Qingqiu’s mania decreases by a solid five levels after seeing that his little trinket was successful. “I need you to cover for me while I’m gone. The others won’t let me off the mountain on my own. Not with Without-A-Cure. And especially not to the Abyss. But you–you can be gone for months and no one would notice.”

“Hey!”

“What?”

The audacity Cucumber-bro has to act confused. “You would notice if I were gone, wouldn’t you?” Shang Qinghua asks, and no that’s not his voice cracking or his eyes welling up. You’re imagining things.

Shen Qingqiu is silent.

“It’s really important for our friendship that you answer yes.”

“Yes,” Shen Qingqiu says, while still managing to sound like he said no.

“Say yes like you mean it. Or I’m not playing stand-in for you.”

“Yes. Yes! Okay?”

Aw. How sweet. Shang Qinghua blows Shen Qingqiu a kiss. “I love you, bro.”

He shows his love by walking over to Shen Qingqiu’s vanity and shoving off every frilly oil and hair piece that stands in the way between him and the mirror. He smiles at his new reflection.

Nice.

He gropes his new chest.

Niiice.

“Stop that!” Shen Qingqiu proves his superior strength between the two and drags Shang Qinghua back to the table for further discussion. Oh, yeah. They have a hoax that needs planning.

Shen Qingqiu resumes his lecture. “A Fury Falcon is capable of crossing in and out of the Endless Abyss. Xiao Huo can open a rift between realms for me.”

“Xiao Huo…” Shang Qinghua mouths to himself.

“The bird, Airplane.”

Right, right.

“But he is unable to get me out of the Endless Abyss. That is an ability unique to his own kind.”

Sure. Shang Qinghua probably wrote some stupid rule like that. To keep Luo Binghe trapped in the down there for as long as possible.

Shen Qingqiu pets along the colorful row of feathers at Xiao Huo’s chest. The Fury Falcon looks to be settling down for a nice, long nap across the slope of Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders. Of course Cucumber-bro won the thing’s heart in the time it takes to boil some tea.

“I will find Luo Binghe.” There’s no planning on this part. Just pure, unadulterated lunacy. “I will let him do with me as he pleases.” Shang Qinghua’s not so sure that’s a good idea. And not in the way Shen Qingqiu thinks. “And if he allows it, I will help him in locating Xin Mo.”

That’s their only ticket out of there. Luo Binghe must be struggling to find the legendary sword. And luckily for him, he has a Shizun who’s read the whereabouts of its exact location.

Shang Qinghua tries to run a hand through his/Shen Qingqiu’s ludicrously long hair, only for it to get stuck halfway through. He tugs it free, probably having created a bald spot on the side of his head in the process. How does Cucumber-bro deal with all this? “And you’ve made this whole plan all because of a letter and some…ribbon?”

Shen Qingqiu’s maiden tendencies strike again as he raises a distraught hand to his chest. “The message was written in blood!”

That’s a little cliche, isn’t it? “Come on, bro. This is a trap and you know it.”

Less like a trap and more like a booty-call. Luo Binghe is one hundred percent just trying to lure Shen Qingqiu to hell with him so they can get down and dirty amongst the mountain of demon corpses he has surely accumulated by now. And worse, Shen Qingqiu is letting him. Cucumber-bro, Shang Qinghua is doing all he can to conserve your precious chastity! Work with him, won’t you?

“I don’t care. If Binghe is asking for me, then I’ll come.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Plenty of times, if Shang Qinghua knows his son.

He sighs. Cucumber-bro is leaving whether Shang Qinghua wants him to or not. The whole mountain will go up in flames if his absence is discovered, and then it’s Shang Qinghua’s ass on the chopping block as the last person to have been seen with him. Ugh. The next time Shen Qingqiu harmlessly invites him over for tea, he’s saying no.

“One month. I can probably keep them off your tail for that long.”

Cucumber-bro smiles–like really smiles, and suddenly Shang Qinghua isn’t as mad as he was two seconds ago. Witchcraft! If they transmigrated into the early days of America, Shen Qingqiu would’ve been tied to a post and burnt to a crisp by now.

“Here.” In a rare moment of trust, Shen Qingqiu offers one of his fans to Shang Qinghua. A prop. A necessity. In order to play the part of the lofty Shen Qingqiu.

Shang Qinghua snaps the fan open. Hard. It smacks him square in the face. He’s left with a sizable red welt across his left cheek. Cucumber-bro can’t even look at him from where he’s dropped his face despairingly into his hands. Xiao Huo tries to comfort him, nosing at his hair. It doesn’t work.

“Two weeks. Let's cut it down to two weeks,” Shang Qinghua generates a nice breeze for himself with the fan. Then for Cucumber-bro who now looks close to having a Shang Qinghua induced mental breakdown.

“Two weeks won’t do.” Shen Qingqiu had planned for this, for Shang Qinghua’s total ineptitude. “We’re going to use the Soul Swapping Amulets.”

A throw away plot device. Used for a wife plot of some sort. The name speaks for itself. It allows the users to harness the power of, well, swapping souls. For a limited amount of time. But long enough to call Shen Qingqiu back to Cang Qiong Mountain in case of an emergency. Cucumber-bro really did his studying for this suicide mission of his.

“Great!” Shang Qinghua cheers. “You have a pair?”

Shen Qingqiu looks away guiltily. “No. Not exactly…but Yue Qingyuan does.”

Ah ha. Shang Qinghua catches on this time. “You mean the Hall of Artifacts.”

Cang Qiong has dealt with their fair share of cursed items and dangerous tools from their many missions across the human realm. Those deemed unfit for society knowledge or use are sealed away in the Hall of Artifacts on Qiong Ding Peak. And it is guarded by none other than the Sect Leader himself. Peak Lords are granted access to the otherwise unrestricted area. But only under the supervision of Yue Qingyuan.

“You’re going to steal them, aren’t you?” Shang Qinghua realizes.

“Yes,” Shen Qingqiu bites at his nail in thought. “Once I figure out how, that is.”

“What are you talking about, this is the easiest part of your plan so far!” Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes. Thank god Cucumber-bro has him. He clears his throat and does the last thing Shen Qingqiu expects.

He starts taking off his robes.

“Airplane!”

Shang Qinghua shimmies off his outermost layer, revealing the pearly white sheen of Shen Qingqiu’s preferred under robes. He makes a show of loosening his collar and removing his shining, silver vambraces. Bare wrists? Exposed collarbones?! What is he, a slut?

Shang Qinghua cracks the fan open, carefully this time, and waves at himself. Just enough to make the wind dance through his hair.

“Zhangmen-shixiong,” he says in a syrupy sweet voice Shen Qingqiu is certain he’s never used before. And never wants to hear coming from his mouth again. “This one was curious about a relic recently added to the Hall of Artifacts. Could this one trouble Zhangmen-shixiong for a private tour?” Cue the batting eyes. Shen Qingqiu didn’t think anything would be worse than the torture he’ll inevitably face at the hands of the protagonist, but he’s been proven wrong.

Horrifyingly enough, it continues. Shang Qinghua reaches out, sweeping his fingers ever so gently across Shen Qingqiu’s knuckles before lacing their hands together. This is–Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know why he’s flustered all of the sudden? It’s literally his own body!

“Zhangmen-shixiong is so knowledgeable. Xiao-jiu requires your personal assistance.”

‘System?’ The green box perks to attention in Shen Qingqiu’s periphery. ‘Could you kindly erase my memories of this whole conversation?’

Apologies, User Shen Yuan. That is not a feature within the System interface. (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

Useless! Always so useless!

“What are you doing?” Shen Qingqiu needs to put an end to this before Shang Qinghua causes him to qi deviate. Why is twirling his hair around his finger like that? And puckering his lips? Why are his robes slipping further and further off Airplane’s body? He’s transmigrated ages before Shen Qingqiu, he knows how to properly wear a hanfu!

“The one thing that’s going to work, bro,” Shang Qinghua says, revealing the last sesame ball he’d stolen right from underneath Shen Qingqiu’s nose. “Flirting.”

✦✦✦

Shen Qingqiu has a promised tour of the Hall of Artifacts secured before he can even finish getting the request out as his and Yue Qingyuan’s weekly tea time. Shang Qinghua wrote him a script he did not need. It outlined everything. All the way from how to get into the hall, down to what he could say/do to distract the sect leader long enough for Xiao Huo to steal the amulets. Called it Plan ‘Flirt to Divert.’ Shen Qingqiu doesn’t care that it rhymes. It’s still a bad name.

Besides, he didn’t need it! He only spoke to Yue Qingyuan as he always does. No flirting required! At least, not yet. Yue Qingyuan may have brushed his hair from his face and cupped his cheek as he promised Shen Qingqiu he’d do anything his Xiao-jiu asked, but it’s not like that’s something the sect leader hasn’t done before.

“What piece is Xiao-jiu so interested in seeing?” Yue Qingyuan glows with a child-like eagerness from his spot at Shen Qingqiu’s side, their shoulders brushing every other step as they make their way to the Hall of Artifacts at the base of the mountain.

“There are a few this one would like to study.” Shen Qingqiu bristles slightly at the hand Yue Qingyuan places at the small of his back. There’s no need to help guide him like this. He’s been to the Hall of Artifacts before, he’s not going to get lost on the way there!

“Of course. Xiao-jiu can take as much time as he likes inside. This one would be happy to answer any question Xiao-jiu may have.” Xiao-Huo, nestled at Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder once more, clocks the exact moment Yue Qingyuan tries to make a play at grabbing his A-Qiu’s waist. He squawks, nipping at that lecherous hand before it can move any further. Yue Qingyuan had seamlessly granted Shen Qingqiu permission to keep Xiao Huo as a pet; something that definitely shouldn’t have been allowed on a peak full of demon-slaying cultivators. He’s looking like he’s regretting that choice right about now.

“Be nice.” Shen Qingqiu’s reprimand is as weak as a kitten’s swat. A-Qiu certainly has lots of suitors. Three, that Xiao Huo has counted so far. And there’s sure to be more lurking around somewhere. He must stay vigilant.

The entrance to the Hall of Artifacts is unassuming, easy to overlook. Strategically so. Built from stone of Qiong Ding’s own mountain, the dark building looks as though it is one with nature, making it near invisible to the average passerby. Only a trusted few, like Shen Qingqiu’s fellow Peak Lords, are aware of its location. But even if one nosey disciple were to stumble upon this spot, they would be unable to enter. Only with a small, concentrated injection of Yue Qingyuan’s qi can the doors be unlocked. At Yue Qingyuan’s insistence, the doors open themselves, shaking the ground with the same force as an avalanche.

Yue Qingyuan helps Shen Qingqiu over the raised threshold of the entrance. A line of torches flare to life on each wall, dousing the room with an eerie orange glow. The Hall of Artifacts is just that–a long hall filled with, you guessed it, artifacts. And really, what was Shen Qingqiu expecting? This place only exists as a graveyard for used and abused plot devices that Airplane didn’t have enough creativity to otherwise write out of the story. If they weren’t being used to challenge the Protagonist, or help him score a new wife, they were left here. To rot, or become relevant again five hundred chapters later.

Shen Qingqiu searches the row of wooden pedestals for the matching necklaces and finds them near the left wall. No case, no wrappings. It’s almost too easy. He looks to Xiao Huo. The demon taps his beak against Shen Qingqiu’s cheek. He’s ready.

If only he weren’t the most conspicuous looking bird to ever exist. Camouflage was never a Fury Falcon’s thing. Maybe in the lava rivers of the Endless Abyss, but certainly not here. Airplane was right. They need a distraction.

Shen Qingqiu wanders closer to the Soul Swapping Amulets, without being too obvious about what his true target is. He comes to a stop at a random pedestal. “Zhangmen-shixiong, remind this one of this artifact’s properties?”

Get him monologuing. That’ll keep him busy.

“The Lover’s Shackles?” Yue Qingyuan very quickly occupies the empty space next to Shen Qingqiu. So close! Xiao Huo caws again. He’s not very fond of Yue Qingyuan, is he? “They were retrieved from a succubus cave. Once worn between a couple, they are reported to forever bind the target’s soul to the owner of the shackles. They would do their every bidding. It was used for…nefarious reasons. Primarily to lure young men from their families into succubus traps.”

Oh! That actually is kind of interesting! Shen Qingqiu curiously pokes at the shackles with the guard of his fan. “I wonder how they work…” he mumbles. Mostly to himself. Yue Qingyuan listens anyways.

“Would Xiao-jiu like to try?” He holds up his wrist. Shen Qingqiu’s mouth drops open. Talk about trust!

“No need. Zhangmen-shixiong already does everything this one asks for,” Shen Qingqiu laughs, but Yue Qingyuan doesn’t join him. Rather, he becomes more serious than ever.

“Mhm. And I always will.”

Hey wait, what happened to the formal speech? This is a business meeting! And why are they holding hands now? Shen Qingqiu’s mind flashes back to Shang Qinghua’s plan. Okay. He remembers reading about hand holding. What was next? Was it the eye batting? Or was it taking off his clothes? Airplane said to just do that if things got dire. Yue Qingyuan leans down, purpose sharpening into his usually passive gaze. This is dire! Shen Qingqiu shakes his shoulder to try and ease his outer robe off. Xiao Huo takes that as the signal it isn't and swoops off towards the amulets.

Not yet! Yue Qingyuan will surely notice! Except he doesn’t. He’s started rambling about…something? Shen Qingqiu doesn't know what. He wasn’t paying attention. Obviously.

“...if you would consider my bid for your hand in–”

The vibrant glare of Xiao Huo wings as he takes flight seems to draw Yue Qingyuan’s eye, if only for a second. A second is all he needs to catch them red handed in this whole farce. That won’t do! Shen Qingqiu ditches the script and makes his own move.

He pushes Yue Qingyuan against the wall. Crowds him. Slams his arm up when Yue Qingyuan tries to look Xiao Huo’s way.

Shen Qingqiu knows his way around a shoujo manga, as anyone with taste should. He knows just how effective this particular move is. Who knew he had it in him!

“I’ll consider it,” Shen Qingqiu whispers into what little space remains between their mouths. Yue Qingyuan appears to have been nailed into place. He makes a few abortive sounds before choosing to stare at up Shen Qingqiu with big, beseeching eyes, round and bright as a full moon. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know what he just agreed to. Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as getting caught stealing.

Xiao Huo flees the scene like the criminal he is, both amulets strung across his neck. He’s home free before Yue Qingyuan even gathers his wits.

“Xiao-jiu–”

“Peak emergency!” Shen Qingqiu shouts as he makes his own hasty escape. He climbs on Xiu Ya to join Xiao Huo in the sky. Thank you, sect leader! You’ve been a dear!

He’s sure whatever Yue Qingyuan was trying to tell him can’t be that important.

Right?

✦✦✦

Shang Qinghua wails and threatens to sic Mobei-jun on him when Shen Qingqiu cuts his palm with a spare kitchen knife. Wuss. Shen Qingqiu does the same to himself without so much as a flinch because that’s how real transmigrators act. Squeezing his hand into a fist, Shen Qingqiu wills a few drops of blood to fall. They splatter onto the massive clear gemstone of his half of the Soul Swapping Amulets, sinking into the center and turning the colorless centerpiece red. He loops the golden chain around his neck and instructs Shang Qinghua to do the same.

The Soul Swapping Amulets didn’t come with instructions, but they figured it out after some trial and error. A supply of qi to the gemstone and they activate. Simple enough. Shen Qingqiu just hopes and prays that he won’t be caught in a life and death situation with Luo Binghe in the Abyss, just to be sent back to the Bamboo House because Airplane can’t figure out if Shen Qingqiu prefers jasmine over oolong tea. The answer is jasmine. Which he told Airplane three times already. Just to be on the safe side. As well as which fan is his favorite, and what path leads to the sword mound where he must sit and mourn for three hours a day. Yes, this is important, Airplane. No, you cannot bring paperwork or play System Solitaire while you’re there. You’d dare disgrace the memory of the White Lotus Protagonist like that?!

Shen Qingqiu has lesson plans written out for all his disciples and enough physical alteration talismans to keep Shang Qinghua under disguise for the next millennium. He’s done all he can. Now the rest is up to Airplane.

So basically, it’s going to crash and burn.

“I will have Xiao Huo send updates.” Shen Qingqiu packed a qiankun bag with everything he could think of: spare robes, food, weapons, bedding, medical supplies–and somehow it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough. There’s no telling how long he’ll be gone for, and worse, there’s no telling what state he’ll find Luo Binghe in either. He’d shove all of Qian Cao Peak in here if he could! Come on, everyone. Don’t ask questions, just get into the magical bag please! Mu Qingfang, you too. Hurry up now.

It’s taken less than a day to prepare for this trip. And yet, Shen Qingqiu feels like he can’t get to the Endless Abyss fast enough. Luo Binghe’s letter sits at his desk, taunting him.

What’s taking you so long?

Binghe needs your help.

Hurry.

HURRY!

Shen Qingqiu jolts to his feet and Xiao Huo, who was busy admiring himself in Shen Qingqiu’s mirror, startles to attention and rushes over. He’d left at some point and ransacked a merchant’s stall off the mountain, returning with an entire new outfit that he insisted needed Shen Qingqiu’s approval. He chose a dreamy, deep blue outer robe and paired it with an under robe in the brightest, most obnoxious red he could find, creating a rather pleasing contrast. The cut was originally meant to be trim and form fitting, but in his hurry to not get whacked with by the merchant’s broom, Xiao Huo snagged a robe two sizes too big. With his hair up and a headband stretched across his forehead in an attempt to hide some of his more obvious facial feathers, he gives the impression of a young boy desperately trying to pass as a soldier.

“We’re leaving,” Shen Qingqiu decrees.

“Now?!” Shang Qinghua nurses his bleeding hand like he doesn’t possess the ability to heal it in two seconds. It's too soon. He’s not ready! He’s still trying to figure out how to do that thing that Shen Qingqiu does with his eyes or his lips, or maybe it’s in the hips? Or whatever it is that makes everyone crazy over him. That’s like, the most vital part to Cucumber-bro’s performance as Shen Qingqiu. He can’t screw it up!

There’s a knock. Three heads swivel towards the door.

“Now,” Shen Qingqiu says and shoves the pile of talismans into Shang Qinghua’s arms. They’re going out the back. “And you,” he says to Xiao Huo, batting him away from where he’s hooked his chin over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder. “I am not letting you ride on Xiu Ya with me.” He’s a bird, for goodness sake. He can fly just fine on his own.

“This one’s wing still hurts.” Shen Qingqiu would’ve bought that excuse if Xiao Huo bothered to keep on the bandage of this apparently debilitating injury of his. But the big, begging, puppy-dog eyes he tries next…they’re way too effective. Not as good as Binghe’s, but good enough that Shen Qingqiu agrees to a five minute sword ride. But that’s it.

“You owe me for this!” Shang Qinghua yells, his fist raised as if he could ever pose an actual threat to his Cucumber-bro. The door knocks again. Louder this time. Shen Qingqiu and Xiao Huo are creeping out the private back door of the Bamboo House before Shang Qinghua can manage to stick on a talisman. He feels the spell set in place and confirms with a glance to the mirror. Yep. All set.

Shang Qinghua does a little stretching to settle his nerves. He’s got this. He can do this.

The door swings open.

Zhangmen-shixiong.” Shang Qinghua pauses, watching as Liu Qingge fights his way past the mountainous bouquet of flowers Yue Qingyuan brought. “And Liu-shidi?” The Bai Zhan War God spits out a mouthful of colorful petals. Cheng Luan is missing from its usual place at his waist. Instead Liu Qingge wields…a broom?

They both start speaking on top of one another.

“Xiao-jiu, may I come in so we can continue our conversation from before–”

“Let me in and let me clean your–”

Shang Qinghua slams the door in their faces.

Nevermind. He can’t do this.

✦✦✦

“A-Qiu, I can’t do it if you’re watching me~” Xiao Huo’s oversized sleeves give him the perfect sweater paws to press against his rapidly reddening face. Shen Qingqiu didn’t know this demon even had a shy bone in his body! And he chooses now of all times to use it?! Shen Qingqiu didn’t bring the Xiao Huo along to stand there and look pretty, as well of a job he does at that anyway. They have a gateway to literal Hell that needs opening. Let’s pick up the pace, please!

Xiao Huo has Shen Qingqiu turn around so he can’t watch, but it doesn’t make any difference. The deafening scream he releases could be heard from the heavens. The force of the cry is so intense, the corners of Xiao Huo’s mouth expand, nearly unhinging his jaw from the upper half of his face. From his position on the ground, kneeling with his hand slammed over his ears, Shen Qingqiu can see the visible sound waves of Xiao Huo’s cry tearing a rift into the canyon before them.

Xiao Huo’s only request was that they travel to a large, empty area to open the rift. He didn’t want any other humans to accidentally stumble into the Endless Abyss with them. Says they’re an invasive species. That if they survive long enough, they cause quite the ruckus. Which makes exactly zero sense. How much trouble could humans really cause when the air itself down there is enough to kill them? Shen Qingqiu bothers Xiao Huo for an answer, but never gets one.

“Aiya, so embarrassing!” Xiao Huo’s jaw stitches itself back into place as he continues his flustered act, the monstrous rift to the Endless Abyss emitting a low, dark moan as Xiao Huo flits about, his face about as red as his hair. “A-Qiu, this one is so sorry you had witness that. Please do not think less of this lowly demon.”

“Xiao Huo is incredible.” A clawed, feathered hand helps assist Shen Qingqiu back to his feet. “Truly, it is remarkable how you are able to create a rift with your voice alone!” Shen Qingqiu pulls back Xiao Huo’s robes to better examine his chest, inquiring of the size of his lungs. Surely they must be greater than the average human to emit such a sound! How does he do it? Or is it through the power of the throat and the vocal chords? Shen Qingqiu’s fingers climb up to Xiao Huo’s neck, tickling at the smattering of orange feathers he finds there. So interesting! He must know more–

“A-Qiu, don’t tease,” Xiao Huo captures those wicked fingers before they start something they can’t stop. It’s too much! Really! Xiao Huo makes a hasty retreat back into his demon form and seats himself back on Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder, hiding his face in that long, beautiful hair of his.

“You’re just like Binghe, running away why you get shy,” Shen Qingqiu smiles, remembering a time he had to chase a blushing Luo Binghe into a pond. Sweet boy. He’d been just a sapling then. So small that Shen Qingqiu carried him in his arms back to the Bamboo House and held him all night long to circulate qi into his wounds. He’d been training so hard at that time, desperate to grow up. Shen Qingqiu wonders if that little white lotus would recognize who he's become now. Shen Qingqiu isn’t even sure if he himself could.

Either way, he’s about to find out.

The rift emits a nauseating pool of ying energy, enough so to make even a renowned cultivator like Shen Qingqiu hesitate to step through.

Entering the Endless Abyss is the easy part. Escaping it–well, that’s another story.

What will Shen Qingqiu do if he can’t get out? If he can’t find Xin Mo, if he runs out of food? If his Villain Halo fails as he’s mauled to death by a pack of Red Howler Rats?

But this isn’t about him. This is about Luo Binghe.

And with that, Shen Qingqiu takes his last lungful of fresh air and blue skies, and steps through the rift.

✦✦✦

The air of the Endless Abyss is thick and thin at the same. Hot and cold. But above all, it’s really fucking awful. Shen Qingqiu makes it two steps before falling to his knees into the rocky, bloodstained surface beneath him. Xiao Huo reverts to his human form in an instant, more than happy to be a cane for Shen Qingqiu to wobbly rely on.

“Just…give me a moment.” It’s a herculean effort for Shen Qingqiu to circulate his qi, guiding it to his lungs and dispersing the poisonous air before it can harm him. It will take some time for his body to adapt and filter out the harmful energy on its own. It will be a manual job until then. Of course, Shen Qingqiu expected this. He just didn’t expect it to be so hard.

Was it this hard for Binghe too?

Shen Qingqiu’s attention is pulled in fifty different directions. He’s in the Volcanic Riverlands, a relatively calm area of the Abyss, if any of it could be considered calm. The mutated beasts that reside here are usually manageable, and the hot springs hidden hidden in the maze of caves at the base of volcanic mountain are said to have healing properties, those of which had once saved Luo Binghe from a viciously infected wound after he battled a herd of Stone Spiked Bison.

The volcano erupts as if to welcome Shen Qingqiu to his new home for the foreseeable future. Endless streams of lava trickle down the mountainside, forging their way through the mainland in rivers of orange so bright and hot it melts away the skin of whatever poor demon flies too close, leaving piles of bones for Shen Qingqiu to crumble into dust under his boot with every step.

The sky is a dusty red, thick with fog. There’s no sun, no moon, not a single source of light outside of the lava and Xiao Huo’s glistening feathers. Shen Qingqiu already knows what dangers lurk in the dark. There’s no letting his guard down. Not for a moment.

“You may go,” Shen Qingqiu tells a distracted Xiao Huo. He’s staring at the nearest stream of lava with the intensity of a longing lover. In a blaze of light, Xiao Huo has already transformed and dived straight into the burning river. He emerges, shaking his wings free of lava before submerging himself once more. Like a kid in a pool. Shen Qingqiu watches from a distance, amusement dulling his instincts. He doesn’t realize the Hellhound Hyena is there until it pounces.

Fast! Shen Qingqiu thinks, but Xiu Ya is faster. His sword unsheathes itself, lancing straight through the beast’s heart. Shen Qingqiu removes it from the carcass, swinging at the next Hellhound Hyena that comes at him from the right. They always hunt in packs of at least six. He dispatches the remaining four before Xiao Huo finishes his bird bath and comes plodding back over with his face and feathers squeaky clean.

“A-Qiu, this one thanks you for such a lovely meal.” Xiao Huo rips off a rear leg of the closest hyena, bringing it up to his mouth for a bite. A string of muscle hangs from the corner of his mouth, and when Shen Qingqiu politely points it out, Xiao Huo simply slurps it like a noodle.

He asks if Shen Qingqiu wants a bite too. Even saves him the best piece–the tongue. What wonderful manners! Unfortunately Shen Qingqiu has to decline.

Shen Qingqiu enjoys his own meal later after securing a safe spot to spend the night. The cave had been full of sleeping Double-Headed Blood Bats, but one swing of Xiu Ya had them skittering out of there in a blink of an eye. His supper consists of rice and dried meat, not exactly the delectable spread he’s used to. But he wants to save the good stuff for Binghe. His palate has surely extended to demon delicacies by now, but maybe he misses a little taste of home.

The first day passes without incident. Shen Qingqiu isn’t tired, high wired by the rush of adrenaline that hasn’t lifted since he first stepped foot in this cursed place, but he knows he should sleep while he can. It won’t always be this easy. He digs around his overstuffed qiankun bag in search of something suitable to sleep on. A blanket twice his size and heavy enough to suffocate him will do the trick. Shen Qingqiu cocoons himself in comfort and tries his best not to think how Luo Binghe will be spending the night. Cold, lonely, with no one to soothe away the stress brought on by the day as Shen Qingqiu once would. Be it a hand passing through Luo Binghe’s abundant hair, or a lap for Luo Binghe to rest his weary head. Or maybe someone is. That only makes Shen Qingqiu feel worse, for a reason he won’t bother trying to figure out. Ridiculous. This isn’t what he should be concerned about. There are a breed of bugs in the Endless Abyss capable of furrowing into his head through his ears and feasting on his brain matter. That’s what should be keeping him up right now! Not silly thoughts of what wife is indulging Luo Binghe tonight. Shen Qingqiu covers his ears to keep out the bugs and his worthless worries over the protagonist.

With Xiao Huo posted at the cave entrance like a guard dog that barks at even the passing breeze, Shen Qingqiu curls closer to the fire he spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to start, knowing it will be to close his eyes for a moment. A quick cat nap never hurt anyone.

Shen Qingqiu was never a fan of camping: no electricity, no wifi, just bugs and boredom–but this trip doesn’t seem so bad! Maybe he’s overestimated the Abyss. Maybe it’ll be fun!

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t realize he’s jinxed himself until he wakes an undetermined amount of time later, bound and gagged on the floor of an excruciatingly small cage. He never considered himself claustrophobic until now, unable to even stand or stretch his legs without hitting a barrier of metal. How wonderful. A peaceful night of sleep was too much to ask for, hm?

Shen Qingqiu squints into the stale darkness looming around him. There’s a thick fabric of some kind thrown over his personal prison cell. Or so he's assuming. At least there’s no dead body in here to keep him company. The jostling rhythm that nearly rams Shen Qingqiu into the bars around him tells that he’s on the move. Probably on a carriage of some kind. With a horrible fucking driver. Would it kill them to go a little slower? A little gentler? They’ve got delicate cargo here!

Xiao Huo is nowhere to be seen. The same goes for Xiu Ya. To make matters worse, Shen Qingqiu’s qi has been sealed. Not Without-A-Cure. The culprit lies in the agonizingly familiar red rope trapping his hand and feet together. Immortal binding cables–here of all places? That’s not fair.

A hand with too many fingers unveils a corner of the cage. A demon. With scales for skin and the eyes of a predator. A forked tongue slithers towards Shen Qingqiu as if to try and steal a taste. He won’t let them. With his feet tied at the ankles, that gives Shen Qingqiu enough wriggle room to shoot his legs out and trap that tongue between the bottom of his boot and a bar of the cage. He grinds down until he hears a telltale squish. The demon is howling and clawing for escape, but it can’t get far with Shen Qingqiu’s foot holding him hostage.

A knife comes down and slices the length of tongue stretched outside the cage, successfully separating them. The snake demon falls to their back, gagging on the blood of the now leaking appendage as it retreats back into its mouth. Good. Maybe they learned their lesson.

“I told you to be careful. Humans are dangerous,” a voice hisses. The newcomer, dressed in prestigious dark armor, bends down to take a look at Shen Qingqiu. He whistles appreciatively. Should Shen Qingqiu be charmed by that? Because he's not. He kicks hysterically at the bars of the cage to try and scare the soldier off. It doesn't work. It only ends up frightening the snake demon even more than he already has. They’re on their feet and running off before Shen Qingqiu can try and channel the ferocity of a toddler stomping their way through a tantrum again. The armored demon cackles, the sound like two rocks grinding against each other until one cracks. His hand shoots into the cage, grabbing a generous handful of Shen Qingqiu’s hair to drag him close. Where his partner failed, he does not, his tongue dragging a wet streak across Shen Qingqiu’s cheek. Is this some customary demon greeting Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know about? He’s not going to lick anyone back if that’s what they’re thinking.

The demon wets his lips, savoring the flavor Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even know he possesses. “Hello, beautiful. Welcome to the Endless Abyss.”